


Snow Storm

by ljunattainable



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, SPN J2 Secret Santa, Some Swearing, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljunattainable/pseuds/ljunattainable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean & Cas are hunting a ghost haunting a remote cabin.  The hunt doesn't go as planned, they get trapped by a snow storm and when Cas is injured, Dean has to rethink the way he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormlyht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormlyht/gifts).



> Written for the spn-j2-xmas exchange.
> 
> I took the prompt 'snowed in and injured', and your likes - 'just discovering like/desire for each other' and 'hurt/comfort'.
> 
> Merry Christmas!

Dean looks up anxiously. He can only just make out the sky past the branches of the trees and the thick snowflakes tumbling down. Although it's not even four yet, it's already darkening to evening. He wishes Sam and Cas would get a move on - getting out of the forest in the dark isn't going to be a lot of fun even if they leave now, but waiting until the storm has had a chance to further thicken the carpet of snow on the unused forest roads is asking for trouble. A flake falls into his eye and he blinks to clear it, turning his attention back to the clearing, the cabin and the fire.

There's a muffled thud to his right and he glances that way to see Cas coming out of the cabin with an armful of the deceased owner's (Norman Bates, would you believe it) personal effects, the insect screen door swinging shut behind him. Cas takes the icy wooden steps carefully one at a time, walks the few paces necessary to reach the middle of the clearing and throws the things in his arms onto the pyre in front of Dean. He dusts his hands down on his jeans before tucking them under his armpits and shuddering. His teeth chatter noticeably when he talks. "Why do human bodies get so cold?" 

Dean pokes at the fire with a pole cut from a nearby pine tree pushing errant objects well into the center of the flames. "I told you to wear gloves," Dean says, glancing over at him, ignoring the urge to take Cas's hands in his and rub warmth into them. Cas is mostly doing okay with this human thing but it's all the little things that seem to elude him. Dean wants to wrap him up and keep him safe but Dean has no idea what to do with that feeling so he's ignoring it. "And put on a sweatshirt. Dude, you need to remember this stuff. Warm your hands on the fire. Where's Sam?"

Cas nods back towards the cabin, stretching his arms out palms facing towards the flames. "Getting the bedding."

"We have to leave," Dean says, and kicks worriedly at the fresh snow where it has drifted against the closest tree. He's sure it's gained an extra foot of depth in the last ten minutes. "We should have left this until after the storm."

"We didn't know," Cas points out. "The forecast was for the storm to arrive tomorrow." Dean moves closer, shielding Cas from the worst of the wind with his body. He can at least do that.

There's a bang as the cabin's screen door hits the wall and Sam shoulders his way out of the cabin backwards carrying an armful of blankets and sheets. He makes his way over in an ungainly stumble through the snow and throws everything onto the fire. "That's it."

"All of it?" Dean pushes the blankets into the middle of the fire with his pine pole.

"Pretty much everything that's loose in the cabin is now on that fire," Sam confirms. "Any sign of the ghost?"

"No." Dean shrugs. It's always comforting if the ghost shows up to have its earthly spirit visibly sent packing, but the truth is, more often than not that doesn't happen. "Let's go," Dean says suddenly, throwing his fire-poking stick away into the trees. He gets two decisive and grateful nods.

The grave-digging spade comes in useful to clear the rear tires from the snow that's drifted against them, and they lay down some small branches to give the wheels some traction. It's enough to get them backed out of the clearing and on to the forest track, but an Impala wasn't built for this. The car slips and slides on the track's icy surface, plowing sluggishly through snow that's drifted over the road. 

Dean can hardly see two yards in front of him, the wipers are coping as best they can, which isn't very well, and the snowflakes are huge round globes that fall with hardly any space between them and settle on the car, on the road and in the surrounding forest. Everyone's craned forward peering out of the windshield, providing extra sets of eyes, Sam in the front, and Cas in the back. Dean's not quite ready to put into words what they're all thinking - that there's no way they're driving out of here tonight.

It's Cas that says it first. Dean estimates they've only covered half a mile. "We need to go back."

Dean stops the car, pauses, then nods once, silently, in agreement.

"There's nothing left in that cabin. We burnt it all," Sam says. "What about one of the others?" There are cabins all over this forest, around the miles-wide lake just to the east, mostly unoccupied at this time of the year, but fully-furnished and not emptied out husks like the one they just left.

"Too far, and too hard," Dean has to admit reluctantly. The cabins are spread out in an unpredictable pattern. Taking the car isn't an option because they'd have to keep going along this minor track and drive out to the main forest road then back in to one of the other cabins along another minor track. The car won't make it. Walking through the forest isn't an option either, not in the dark - they could easily walk right past one of the cabins and not know. "Look, we can cope in Norman's cabin tonight and tomorrow when it's light we can try and drive out again."

"We can set the fire," Cas says, trying to sound optimistic, "and we have some supplies - cookies, chips, tea, coffee. Enough for tonight."

"Back it is then," Sam says, and Dean unhappily puts the car into reverse.

Having driven down the track once already, going back along their own route is a little easier. The fire they'd set outside in the clearing is still glowing brightly. They skirt around it as they empty the car of everything useful, including some weapons. It's not that they're expecting any trouble, but old habits die hard. A few bits of wood close to the cabin are collected together and put in the Cabin's fireplace, along with some easy-to-burn pine cones, and Dean picks up the unburnt end of an otherwise red-hot stick from the outside fire to light the indoor one. It catches almost immediately. Sam moves further into the cabin to do something that involves making rummaging noises in the small kitchen area and Cas volunteers to go and get some more firewood to last them through the night. 

Dean watches Cas as he cuts across to the door, sure and economic in his movements. "Be careful," Dean says, because Cas still needs to be reminded. Cas nods once as he reaches out with his bare hand to grip the door handle. "Gloves," Dean adds sharply. He picks Cas's gloves up from the pile of things they left on a wooden chair and hands them over. He shrugs out of his leather jacket. "And wear this - it's frigging freezing out there." Dean watches Cas's back as he shrugs into the extra layers without complaint. Cas is like the obedient little brother Sam isn't any more. 

Sam taps Dean on the shoulder as Dean watches Cas let himself out of the cabin with a (gloved) hand twisting at the stiff handle. 

"So I lied when I said we'd burnt everything that was loose," Sam says.

"Yeah?" Dean snaps out of staring at Cas as the door shuts loudly behind him and turns and looks up at Sam.

"We've got tins of soup and spaghetti in the cupboards."

Dean cheers up considerably. "Better than Cas's tea," he says approvingly. He walks over to one of the two bunks in the cabin. No mattresses, just a frame because they burnt the mattresses. "Probably more comfortable to sleep on the floor, except it'll be damned cold."

"It's only for one night, thank god," Sam says in agreement. 

Dean lies on the wire springs of the bed frame experimentally, but he was right, it's not going to work. He and Sam move furniture out of the way and set the bedrolls and sleeping bags in front of the fire, in a row, feet nearest the fireplace. Dean keeps one eye on his watch, timing Cas to make sure he isn't out too long, but Cas is back within thirty minutes with an armful of firewood, shaking snow out of his hair like a dog. There are three tins of soup warming up in the glowing embers. 

After they've eaten, they go to bed early because there isn't anything to do. There's no cards or games in the cabin - they've all been burnt on the fire outside; there's no phone signal, or wi-fi or three or four 'g', or a TV. They don't have anything to talk about that they haven't already covered in the car.

It's actually not a bad thing if they get some extra sleep, and it's unusual to have an excuse. In fact Sam's asleep as soon as his head hits his half-empty duffel despite the fire's poor attempt at warming the cabin. Dean settles next to Sam with a lot of fidgeting - he hates the claustrophobia of sleeping bags with a vengeance - and rolls to face Cas on his other side.

Dean touches Cas on the shoulder. "'Night, Cas," he whispers.

"Do you think we'll get out of the forest tomorrow?"

"Sure," Dean says, and squeezes where his hand still sits on Cas's shoulder. "It'll be easy in daylight when we can see what we're doing."

"I don't like being cold." Cas sounds as if he's admitting to some heinous crime.

"I know. It's only one night, I promise." He pulls the edge of Cas's sleeping bag up a little higher towards his chin. "Wake me if you can't sleep." 

"Okay." They both know he won't.

###

The next morning they wake up to bigger snow drifts, a raging blizzard, and odd bits and pieces of their stuff missing - Dean's boots, Sam's jacket, Cas's gloves. Dean's duffel's gone as well but everything that was in it is in a neat pile on the floor by the fireplace. 

Dean glances at Cas, who glances at Sam, who glances at Dean. 

"Ghost not gone, then," Dean mutters. He shuffles to try and keep his feet warm in just his socks.

They run out of places to look pretty quickly in the cabin and eventually the find their missing gear all tied up together with Dean's bootlaces, hanging twenty feet in the air from a branch precariously balanced over the Impala.

Sam and Cas are standing by the Impala up to their thighs in snow, both of them shivering in the freezing wind that picks up drifts of surface snow and mingles it with the flakes that are still falling heavily from above. They're gazing upwards arguing about who should climb the tree, and occasionally, just for a second, but long enough to cause Dean's breath to pause in his chest, they're lost from Dean's sight in the storm. 

A strong gust billows around the porch and in through the open door and Dean decides the most use he can be here is keeping the cabin warm.

He's making tea and coffee with melted snow when Sam and Cas come into the cabin with their rescued gear, the open door briefly blowing a gale through the cabin that almost knocks Dean's precariously balanced tin of hot water over. Sam and Cas shake themselves down and both make their way to stand right next to the fire - they're soaked through from head to toe, visibly shaking with cold.

Dean hands Cas hot tea and Sam hot coffee and they scoop the metal camping mugs into their hands gratefully.

Dean throws Cas's used teabag into the fire. "It's fairly obvious the storm's still too bad for us to get out of here today." Dean glances apologetically at Cas as he says it.

"The only way to get rid of the ghost is to burn down the cabin," Sam says. 

"Then we need to find another cabin - we can't ride the storm out here with Norman around." Norman the ghost may start with mischief but he always ends with a bloodbath. He doesn't like visitors.

Sam looks at his tourist map of the lake that they'd picked up before heading in to the forest. "If this is accurate, there should be two cabins fairly close together about three-quarters of a mile to the North-East, and one cabin about the same distance to the North-West."

"We should head North-East," Cas says, "if we spread out and walk through the wood in parallel we have a good chance of finding at least one of those cabins."

There's a noise outside like something heavy scraping along the porch. They all look up sharply, turning their heads that way - there's nothing on the porch that could make that sound.

"Norman's getting antsy," Dean says quietly, folding the map. "North-East sounds like a - "

"Look out," Cas yells suddenly, his eyes flying wide-open as he flings himself at Sam forcing them both into a sprawl on the rug as a snow shovel flies their way.

Things are being thrown at them from every direction and they hold their arms up in front of them to shield their heads, ducking and weaving as they grab their stuff and make a run out of the cabin and head for the nearest trees.

The onslaught pauses. Dean turns and leans his back against the tree he's hiding behind. He looks left towards Cas, and right towards Sam. They're both shucking into their jackets, gloves and hats. Dean follows suit, then picks up his duffel and sleeping bag.

Dean checks his watch. After all the hassles with their gear it's nearly noon, but there's still three to four hours of daylight left. It should be plenty. "There's no reason to change the plan. You ready?"

He gets two nods.

As soon as they step out from behind the trees, they're pelted with snow and ice. The ghost whips up a tornado from nowhere and Dean's blinded with stinging snow that creeps into his ears and forces his eyes closed. He steps forward and Sam and Cas start to fan out to either side of him. He yells at them to make sure they stay close enough to hear him even if he can't see them. Low tree branches spring around him as if they've a mind of their own and he scrambles on all fours more often than not to avoid them. It's ridiculously slow going and Dean doesn't know how far they have to go before they make it out of Norman's haunting patch. He's wet and he's cold; his ears and his lips are numb, and if Dean's cold, Cas'll be freezing even with his hat and gloves on.

Dean yells out to each side for a check-in, and gets answering shouts. There's nothing to do but keep going. 

After nearly two hours of trudging through thick snow, each step taking effort and sapping Dean's strength, wearing him out, Sam shouts out in pain from somewhere away to his right. Dean yells for him, but there's no answer. Dean shouts at Cas to let him know what’s happening, then heads as fast as he can in the direction he heard Sam. He has to skirt around the edge of a deep gully that he'd have hit head-on on his original path but he finds Sam quickly, struggling to his feet. Dean grabs his elbow to help him up.

"The damned ghost tripped me with a root, but I'm fine. I'm fine."

Dean peers at him to check the truth of the statement, then nods satisfied. He looks around and spots an old fence-line. "The edge of the property, do you think?"

"No Norman past that point?" Sam asks hopefully.

Dean looks around. Actually, no Norman already. No snow tornadoes, no trees attacking them. He frowns. "Where is he?"

Sam peers around too. "He was here. Where the hell has he gone?"

"This is not good." Dean yells for Cas but he's too far away and Dean doesn't expect an answer.

"We need to check on Cas. There's a ditch that way," Dean points back the way he came, "so I'll walk along the fence," Dean says. He sets out, following the fence and yelling for Cas. There's nothing. He calls back to Sam, and when Sam answers he's faint and distant which means Dean's come too far and Cas should be able to hear him. He stops. Something's wrong. He calls for Sam to come to meet him and waits until Sam reaches him. Sam's going as fast as he can through the snow but Dean's anxiety level is sky high by the time Sam reaches him.

Then Dean hears a yell - deep, gravelly and pained, his heart lurches and he starts running towards the sound; it wasn't far away. He can hear Sam following him, pounding his way through the snow. They're running along the far edge of the gully Dean had avoided; it looks soft and smooth in the snow but the occasional sharp piece of rock breaks the surface to let them know it's anything but. Just as the gully starts to narrow again as it approaches its other end, Dean comes up short and stares in horror into the gully's narrow base. Sam nearly runs into the back of him then he sees what Dean sees.

Cas is on the ground not moving, lying half on his front, half on his side, his left arm twisted at an impossible angle behind him and Norman doing a frigging victory dance around him, stirring up the snow so that it starts to cover Cas in a freezing blanket. 

"We need to get rid of the ghost - we have to burn the cabin," Sam says into the silence, close to Dean's ear, tugging at Dean's jacket sleeve, trying to get his attention. "We've got to gank Norman."

"I'm not leaving him." Dean swirls on Sam, one eye still on Cas, and tries unsuccessfully to shake loose from Sam's hands. 

"We have to," Sam says urgently. 

Dean shakes his head instinctively, twisting and pulling to get away. "No... no! I'm not leaving him. Let me the fuck go, Sam. I have to get down there." Dean struggles again in Sam's hold.

Sam shakes him. "Dean, if we have any chance of saving Cas, we have to go back and burn the cabin. We have to leave him." Sam starts to pull Dean away. Dean's feet are stuck solid refusing to move. He stares at the ghost circling Cas's still body that's becoming more and more hidden in the snowdrift. Sam's voice becomes background noise in Dean's panicked desperation to get down there, where Cas is.

He jumps in surprise when Sam slaps him, and he turns his face away from Cas for the first time since they spotted him in the gully. "The hell?" He pushes at his brother, tears of frustration stinging his eyes in the cold. He looks at Sam's face, earnest, determined, frigging pitying.

"I get it, Dean, I get it."

"Get what?" Dean says angrily.

"You love him, of course you don't want to leave him." 

Dean opens his mouth automatically to object to the sentiment but then he shuts it again with a snap. 

Sam keeps talking, oblivious to the effect of what he's just said. "We don't have time for this. Cas doesn't have time for this. We have to go."

He loves Cas. It's so frigging obvious when he thinks about it. 

Dean starts to turn his head back to the scene in the gully but Sam catches his face with one hand and stops him. "Don't look back." 

Dean still hesitates. It's going to take them time to get back to the cabin, then they need to set the fire, and god only knows how long before the fire takes and burns whatever it is that's keeping Norman anchored here. He stares at Sam, but his thoughts are anywhere but on Sam. His thoughts are on his friend, who may already be dead, and if he's not, might not survive as long as the round-trip is going to take.

"Sam... " he says, pleading, wanting another option, knowing there isn't one.

"We have to leave now," Sam says not unkindly, but urging Dean to action.

Dean glances behind him, Sam doesn't stop him this time. The ghost is distracted with Cas and not watching them. Dean can barely make out the dark material of Cas's jacket in the snow. He turns back to Sam, nods, takes a tentative step forward then a more sure one. Sam turns and dashes ahead of him, and Dean picks up speed suddenly determined.

They make it back to the cabin in an hour by following the tracks they made earlier, fueled by the urgency, hot and sweaty with exertion. Sam goes straight to the trunk of the Impala and pulls out the spare can of gas. Dean heads into the cabin and opens all the doors and windows to feed the fire with as much oxygen as possible as fast as possible. He starts pulling every bit of furniture in the place into one central area. When Sam comes in he doesn't hesitate in pouring the gas over every wooden surface he can find, laying trails into every single room. They don't talk. As they leave the cabin, Sam pours the last of the gas over the small veranda. Dean's already got his lighter out. He flicks it open and throws it onto the porch. The whole front of the cabin goes up in flames with a loud, dull boom as the fuel ignites. It snakes through the open door and into the interior faster than their eyes can follow. Flames start to show through the open windows. There's another dull explosion from inside and the fire in the cabin takes hold with a vengeance. 

They stand there for five minutes, Dean's feet shuffling impatiently in his need to get back to Cas, but they need to make sure the fire's taken and won't burn itself out when the fuel burns out. When they see the flames start to lick up the front timber wall, that's their confirmation.

Dean turns on his heels and is dashing back through the forest with the sound of Sam following close behind him. They've been gone nearly two hours. An hour back to where they left Cas. It'll be dark by the time they get there. At least it's easy, following their trail back through the snow. They couldn't move so fast otherwise with the snow still falling heavily. Dean stumbles in a drift, Sam hauls him up by the elbow and they rush on without stopping.

When they reach the gully, there's no sign of the ghost and no sign of Cas - just a lump of virgin snow to show where Cas should be. Dean swallows the bile that rises in his throat, and starts down the steep slope at a dangerously fast pace. He drops to his knees and starts shoveling the snow away with his hands until he feels cloth. Sam joins him moments later, dropping to the other side, brushing at the snow that was where Cas's legs were. Dean's uncovered Cas's arm he finds as he brushes more snow away. He works his way up uncovering Cas's shoulder, then his face. 

Cas's eyes are closed, his face lax and white, his lips blue. Blood is matted in his hair and is frozen to his face. Dean lays his fingers on Cas's neck to feel for a pulse, not allowing himself to think of the possibility that there might not be one. Sam stops digging Cas out and watches. For a moment there's nothing, and Dean feels physically sick. He can't lose Cas to something as ridiculous as a frigging ghost. He can't lose Cas, full-stop. He loves him. He can't believe he didn't know.

He almost misses it when it happens, a sluggish pulse in Cas's neck. He holds his breath and waits for it again. 

"He's alive," he says in immeasurable relief when he feels it, his voice breaking a little.

Both he and Sam go back to unearthing Cas from the snow with renewed vigor. When the snow's mostly cleared away, Dean looks at Cas's obviously broken arm, knowing he's got to move it. Cas is still unconscious, thank God, but he groans quietly anyway as Dean brings the arm around and tucks it into Cas's side. Cas doesn't wake.

"What now?" Sam asks, and there's the million dollar question. Cas is freezing, literally, and Dean and Sam are shivering in the cold now too, cooling the sweat under their layers of clothes. The snow is continuing to fall, starting to settle on all three of them.

"We need to find that other cabin. How far do you think it is?" 

"An hour or thereabouts if we were all healthy and walking," Sam says bleakly.

Dean looks at Cas. It'll take at least three or four times as long if they have to carry him. He might wake up, but even if he does he's not going to be moving very fast. 

Their bags are at the top edge of the gully, sleeping bags and all. Dean can make out a hint of khaki where one corner of one bag has been sheltered from the snow. "You go," Dean says to Sam after thinking for a minute. "You'll move faster on your own. Find one of the cabins, get the fire lit, come back with some kind of stretcher or sled we can use to move Cas. I'll stay here."

"You should zip the sleeping bags together and both get in for warmth," Sam says. 

Dean knows that's what they should do. It's something he wouldn't have thought twice about before he knew that what he felt for Cas wasn't brotherly affection. He hesitates long enough that Sam looks at him curiously. This is ridiculous - Dean's feelings against Cas's life is no contest. Dean points to his right where a rocky outcrop has created some shelter. "Okay. We'll wait it out under that overhang." 

After some careful maneuvering Dean and Cas are cocooned in the bags, Dean sitting up resting his back against the rock, Cas lying back against his chest for maximum warmth.

"I'll be quick," Sam says. He hands over Cas's woolen hat and Dean takes it gratefully, fitting it carefully over Cas's head wound and down around his ears.

"I know you will," Dean replies. "Be careful. I don't want to have to rescue you too."

Dean watches Sam's departing figure and fights the urge to call him back. 

###

Dean needs Cas to wake up - he's been out for hours now. Cas is cold and probably borderline, if not actually, hypothermic, and Dean’s more than a little worried. Even without the hypothermia, they're a long way from the nearest hospital and an MRI so he really needs Cas to wake up, if only for a minute, so he can check how bad the head injury is. Dean watches Cas carefully as he warms up in their shared sleeping bags, looking for the slightest sign of consciousness. Slowly Cas loses the blue tinge to his skin. At some point Cas starts muttering and Dean optimistically thinks he's coming around but when Dean talks to him he doesn't answer. Dean's loath to prod or shake him awake because he doesn't know if there are injuries other than the ones he can see.

After a while Dean's legs get stiff from sitting too long in one position and he kicks out in the sleeping bag and shakes some of the snow off. It elicits the first coherent noise he's had from Cas since the ghost pushed him into the gully.

"Dean?" Cas’s voice is weak and croaky, and muffled by the sleeping bag.

Dean chokes back a sob of relief. "Hey. You're awake."

Dean feels the wool of Cas's hat move against his cheek as Cas turns his head slowly to left and right. "What happened? Where's Sam?" 

"Norman happened, but he's gone now. Sam's gone on to find the other cabin. He'll be back soon."

Maybe Dean should explain why they're sharing sleeping bags. Cas might wonder, and Dean wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea. Cas hasn't mentioned it though. Perhaps he's still too out of it.

Dean reaches around Cas and holds up three fingers awkwardly in front of Cas's face. "How many fingers?"

"Three," Cas says with no hesitation.

"What day is it?"

Cas hesitates then Dean remembers that's a dumb question to ask - Cas never bothers to track the day of the week. "What date is it?" he asks instead.

"January 22nd," Cas says. It's the 23rd. 

"Where did we spend last night?" Dean checks.

"Two Paddocks Motel." At least that is actually where they spent the night before last. Cas has lost a day's memories at most. "I'm tired. What happened?" Cas asks again. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"In a minute, buddy. I just need you to tell me where you hurt first. I know about the arm and the head," Dean says. "I need you to tell me if it hurts anywhere else."

There's a longer pause and Dean wonders if Cas has passed out again anyway but then he feels him tensing various body parts, presumably trying them out to see if they still work. 

Eventually Cas says, "Some ribs... are broken I... think." He's slurring his words and re-settling heavily against Dean.

Dean drops his cheek to Cas's shoulder, turns his head and presses his face to the small patch of hair and neck that's exposed between Cas's collar and hat. It's done instinctively and when Dean realizes what he’s doing he turns away quickly, feeling like an idiot. That type of behavior is hardly appropriate for a friend or a brother. He should have noticed. Why the hell didn’t he notice?

"Go back to sleep," Dean says, but Cas already has.

###

When Sam gets back, he's dragging a sled. Dean spots the flashlight first, bobbing around in the woods, then Sam and the sled soon come into sight, outlined at the top of the ridge. 

Cas is still and silent, half-asleep against Dean. Dean woke him up again thirty minutes ago and at least he didn't ask what happened for the third time, which is a step up as far as Dean's concerned. Since then he’s been trying to stay awake despite Dean’s encouragement to sleep.

"Sam's here," Dean tells Cas and Cas grunts sleepily in acknowledgment.

Dean will be a lot happier when they're indoors somewhere. He reaches for Cas's good hand intending to squeeze it gently in reassurance but stops himself half way. It's probably best if he keeps his hands to himself for now until he works out what's what. He pats Cas on the shoulder instead.

Dean shuffles out of the sleeping bag to help Sam drag the sled down into the gully and Cas grumbles as Dean jostles him and settles him back down. His eyes flicker open. "Dean? Are you going?"

"Sam’s here,” Dean says, as if he hasn’t said it before. He tries not to worry. This is normal with a concussion, he tells himself. He reaches out to touch Cas’s face and diverts his hands at the last minute, awkwardly adjusting Cas's hat so it's lower over his ears. "We'll get you somewhere warm soon."

Cas nods and closes his eyes again. Dean hesitates, wanting to tell him not to, wanting to tell him to keep his eyes open so Dean can see at a glance that he's okay. He doesn't. He knows that yesterday he would have done.

###

Dean and Sam pull Cas along on the sled in the dark as the weather gets worse, blowing up flurries of snow that block their vision but luckily don't quite mask the track Sam took with the sled to get to the gully. They struggle through it with their flashlights, taking it in turns to have them on one at a time so as not to risk running the batteries down in both. It's eerie, the snow muffling the wider sounds of the wind around them, but exaggerating the sounds that are closer. Cas still doesn't sleep. The jolts of the sled on the uneven snow draw out grunts of pain at regular intervals and Dean tries very hard to ignore them. They don't have any painkillers with them; there's nothing they can do except stop often to give Cas a chance to have a breather. Dean's not sure if that's a kindness or just prolonging the agony. 

They don't talk, they can't spare the energy, and Dean uses the time to think, as he puts one foot monotonously in front of the other, time after time. He probably should have done some thinking a long time ago.

Eventually, three hours later, they reach the cabin.

###

Compared to where they spent last night, this cabin is luxurious. Fully equipped with modern appliances hidden behind faux-backwoods decor, three bedrooms with beds already made up but with dust-sheets over them, and a huge comfortable couch in the open-plan lounge/diner. Sam had set the fire when he was here earlier, and although while Sam was gone, it died right down from lack of attention, it’s now a roaring blaze and the temperature in the room is comfortable. 

Cas is asleep on the couch, stripped of his outdoor clothes, his arm attached to a make-shift splint tied on with ripped sheets; he’s swallowed as many ibuprofen as seemed sensible from the cabin owner's meager medicine cabinet, and covered in what was probably meant to be a decorative patchwork quilt. 

Dean watches him from one of the two armchairs that face the couch. Cas's arm is going to need a hospital to reset the bones when they make it out, but his head seems okay. He can remember everything now except the actual attack at the gully, and he’s stopped asking the same question more than once. Dean is quietly optimistic.

Sam comes into the room with two steaming mugs of coffee, hands one to Dean and practically collapses in to the second armchair. 

"You didn't know," Sam says. 

"Didn't know what?" Dean asks. He's not really concentrating and it's so late. He wants nothing more than to go to sleep but he won't while Cas might need him.

"You didn't know how you feel about Cas."

Dean turns to stare at his brother in horror. "Seriously, Sam, do we have to talk about this now?"

"It's as good a time as any. What are you going to do?"

"None of your frigging business."

"Dean - "

"I'm going to ignore it and pretend I never had that little revelation. Happy? Cas is my friend and practically my brother and I am not going to ruin that."

Sam opens his eyes a little wide in surprise. "Um, okay, but I think I should just say one thing." Dean rolls his eyes and looks away. "I thought you and Cas had been together for months. Like, not a one-sided pining thing, but an actual together thing, a couple. Two-way." Dean can feel Sam's eyes boring into the side of his head. "As in Cas loves you too." Sam adds just in case Dean hadn't got it. Which he hadn’t. It's possible Dean might need to rethink his plan.

###

Long after Sam's gone to bed, Dean's still watching Cas. 

"Dean? Are you okay?"

Dean jumps. "I thought you were asleep." He shifts self-consciously. Filtered early morning sunlight shines on Cas's face. The storm has passed.

"I was. Now I'm not."

Dean stretches the muscles and clicks the bones that have been stuck in one place on the chair for too long. "How are you feeling?"

"I’ve felt better,” Cas says bluntly. “My head hurts, my arm hurts, and my chest hurts."

"I'm sorry, man."

"It's not your fault." Cas shifts on to his side and momentarily screws his eyes shut in obvious pain. Dean makes up his mind. Cas was lucky this time, he might not be next time.

Dean slips across the room and sits on the side of the couch. "I love you," he says without ceremony or introduction because he's been practising saying it in his head for hours. 

Cas screws up his nose in confusion. "I know. Obviously, I love you too."

Cas looks at him and Dean spots the moment he realizes by the small rise in his eyebrows. "You didn’t know. I didn't know that you didn't know," Cas says. He closes his eyes. His jaw tightens and Dean reaches out, taking his hand. Cas opens his eyes. Dean leans forward and kisses him. 

"Never mind. I know now."


End file.
